Date: Thu, 4 Mar 2010 08:01:59 -0000
From: Nick
Subject: Keeping it in the family - Chapter 12
I would ask all readers to excuse the long delay in updating this story. I
hope it will be worth waiting for! My brother and I have both been on
overseas assignments for our respective employers thus found it difficult to
collaborate in its writing. We are back and I hope you will enjoy catching
up. There will probably be five of six more chapters, bringing the story
almost up to the present day.
* * * *
Chapter 12
WARNING: The following true story - only the names of the participants have
been changed - contains descriptions of gay and bisexual/incestuous activity
between adult relatives and others, activities which may be illegal in some
jurisdictions or cause offence against some religious beliefs. Please do
not read any further if you are likely to be offended by its content or if
it might be illegal in your country! By the way, the story is written with
the full knowledge and approval of all the living persons having significant
mention therein.
* * * *
After a warm night, the Friday morning, July 4th, dawned bright and sunny
soon after 4am, it being midsummer in Central England. Oddly, it was one of
the few mornings when I didn't wake with a stiffie but it didn't take Sarah
long to attend to that problem! We fondled each other for ten or fifteen
minutes before Sarah announced that it was time to get up and I was
commanded to make some tea while she was in the shower. As usual, I went
naked to the kitchen and when the tea was ready I took it to the bathroom
and joined her under the steaming jets.
As usual we made a good job of washing each other down, concentrating on the
more interesting parts of the male and female bodies. It is amazing how
long a woman can take to wash a man's prick and balls, or how much washing
she thinks her intimate parts need, but eventually we held each other in a
tight embrace and kissed passionately, separated only by my now hardened
prick squeezed between our bellies. But all good things must come to an end
- another one of my bad puns - and we grabbed the towels to dry ourselves,
our mutual arousals going to waste on this occasion!
We got dressed, had breakfast, did the last minute packing for our trip to
the Lake District and phoned our respective mothers. Quite why we had to
prepare a flask of coffee for a two hour journey, I was not sure. Even
after that, we were ready to leave soon after seven o'clock; much too early
to meet Rob and Alison in Kendal as arranged at 11am for coffee, but we set
off anyway, saying we could stop off and kill some time somewhere on the
way.
The morning traffic on the M6 motorway was quite heavy for a Friday, with a
lot of Continental trucks going north; the drivers wouldn't be getting their
home comforts this weekend, I thought! After a while, I noticed the
familiar livery of the Dutch truck I had seen so often in 'our' lay-by,
oddly with two others from the same fleet not far in front. I wondered if
the drivers all had their favourite stopping places where they could relieve
the boredom of their long journeys, or did they assist each other in this
regard, perhaps putting their sleeper cabs to good use. The thoughts of
this were making my own groin tingle and Sarah evidently noticed that I was
deep in thought and asked me what I was thinking about. "Nothing", I lied;
she seemed unconvinced but thankfully let the matter drop.
We made some small talk and then she adopted a similar pensive mood for a
few minutes before announcing that "We could stop for a break and some
relaxation on the moors just north of Preston. You know the place where we
stopped once before. After all, it is a lovely morning."
It was indeed a lovely morning; the air-conditioned interior of my BMW-520
belied the 24 degrees outside temperature and that was before 8.30 in the
morning. I well remembered where we had pulled off the motorway once
before, a memory which again made my groin tingle with excitement. Was I
going to be able to last the day out with all these sexy thoughts to contend
with?
About a mile off the motorway junction, we turned into a small lane which
led to a parking area used by hikers on the adjacent moors. We parked at
the far end, away from the half-dozen or so cars that were already there.
The flask and cups came out and we had coffee before walking hand-in-hand,
uphill into the small copse that led on to the moorland, chatting about the
various flora and fauna as we spotted it. It took me back to my pre-teenage
days on the farm in Wales when the three of us and perhaps some friends as
well would take a picnic up on to the Black Mountains and perhaps wander for
hours in the wilderness. That was simple pleasure that today's children of
the computer age will never enjoy as we did. I remembered the time when
five or six of us were out so long that it was almost dark when we found our
way home to our worried parents. Also, of course, there was the occasional
'you show me yours and I'll show you mine' challenge - but that is another
story!
We soon reached the open, rock strewn moorland above the woods. Still
holding each other's hands, we leaned on a big rock, which was already
warmed by the morning sun, and admired the views for perhaps fifty miles all
around. As we stood in silent awe for several minutes, the sight was truly
breathtaking. I tried to ignore Sarah's right hand as it fumbled to open my
belt buckle, as it lowered my zip, then pushed my CKs down and cupped my
prick and balls, but as she scooped the entire kit out of my trousers, my
cock started to harden.
"Hey, I don't want to get it sun burnt!" I protested mildly.
"It won't get burnt where I am going to hide it", Sarah replied, "Get your
trousers down!"
I needed little bidding as she dropped her own slacks and panties, kicking
them off as she moved in front of me. "Remember Packington Woods?" she said
as she massaged my already twitching prick towards its full glory. That was
my cue; I put my hands round her buttocks, she lifted her legs around my
waist and I slid my member into her already wet cunt. We paused for a
moment, then with me still leaning on the rock, my trousers around my
ankles, she started bouncing up and down, impaled on my increasingly rampant
member. It wasn't long before I slammed another load of spunk deep into
Sarah's innards, just as she reached her own noisy climax.
We stayed in that position, with her cunt corked as my prick slowly shrank
and eventually fell out of her love chute. She dropped to her feet and then
to her knees before taking my dick into her mouth, sucking the last drops of
spunk from it and then licking it clean. I used my clean, white
handkerchief to mop up our combined juices dribbling from her hole. Only
seconds after we had our clothes back in some semblance of order, though
Sarah was still without her shoes, a group of hikers came up that path
towards us. I hastily stuffed the sodden handkerchief into my trouser
pocket, thinking that I must remember not to blow my nose! Last time we
shagged here, we did so in the relative privacy of the copse!
The (hopefully) unsuspecting hikers greeted us as they passed but
fortunately did not linger; we returned their greetings before making our
way, hand in hand, back through the copse towards the car, where we
completed our latest love-making in a passionate embrace before setting off
north towards Kendal. With immaculate timing, we followed Rob and Alison
into the main street just before 10.45, found two parking spaces in the
square, greeted each other and walked across to the Lakeland Coffee shop.
We sat outside and after the girls went off to powder their noses, Rob said
"What have you been up to? You look like the cat that got the cream this
morning."
As ever, we had no secrets from each other, "Well we were a bit early so
Sarah and I stopped off on the moors, one thing led to another and it was
she who got the cream."
"You shagged her on the moors at this time in the morning? You dirty old
bugger!"
"Come on, you know I am not into buggery, anyway jealousy will get you
nowhere! Have you got any idea what Sarah and Alison have been cooking up
for this weekend?"
"None at all, only that they have had several rather secretive phone calls
between them. I guess we shall find out!"
When Sarah and Alison returned, we ordered coffee and cakes. While we
waited for them to come we talked about how we should organise our weekend,
where to go and the like, but naturally the conversation eventually got back
to babies, more specifically how and when we should tell our three mothers.
Rob and I would have to draw lots to decide which of us would tell our
mother first! When Sarah told hers that the four of us were having a
weekend away, the first thing she asked was if there was anything special to
celebrate. My wife was less than honest with her!
After a pleasant, relaxing hour or so, with remarkably few tourists in this
pretty little town on that glorious summer day, we decided to move on the
ten miles or so to Windermere. The rooms at the hotel were ready and we
were immediately escorted to our suite by the smartly uniformed porter. It
consisted of two bedrooms with huge beds, two en-suite bathrooms and a
splendid lounge overlooking the lake. Oddly, the girls didn't want to
unpack; Sarah followed Alison's suggestion that we should take a walk along
the lake shore for a while to make the most of the weather, so as soon as
they had 'powdered their noses', and Rob and I had taken a leak we set off.
We ambled along chatting together for the best part of an hour by which time
we had found a pub so it was drinks all round followed by a stroll back to
the hotel. The girls still didn't want to unpack, making the excuse that it
was time for afternoon tea. Having spent forty minutes or so on that
peculiarly English ritual we all went back to the suite. Sarah and Alison
agreed then that they should unpack whilst Rob and I went to inspect the
swimming pool, sauna, etc.
When we got back to the suite, Alison took charge. It was to be a 'mix and
match' weekend. I had a head start she said, I had slept with Sarah
(obviously), with her and with Rob, albeit the latter was only a platonic
relationship. Sarah had not slept with Rob or Alison. So tonight, the
girls would sleep in one room and the boys in the other, the following day
Rob would sleep with Sarah and I would sleep with Alison. On Sunday night we
would all be with our own partners again! The girls had cooked-up this
plan, Rob and I could think of no grounds to object (nor had we had the
opportunity) and the luggage had been unpacked accordingly! Oh, and one
more thing, there was to be a full and frank discussion of our activities on
the mornings after.
That having been decided, we all showered and got ready for the hotel's four
course gourmet dinner which was accompanied by some excellent wine and
followed by coffee and liqueurs, a splendid introduction to our night of
adventure!
(More follows - hopefully without much delay! Comments welcome, remember
that apart from people's names and some minor liberties with places, this is
a true story!)